by Janet Gover
Jessica’s every sense was tuned to the moment the wheels left the runway and the plane soared free of the earth. Ever since she had been a child watching the birds in the clear blue skies, she had wanted to fly. There was a lot of hard work involved in becoming a pilot, but that hadn’t deterred her and the day she got her wings was one of the happiest of her life. More than anything else in the world, she loved to fly. Every time she left the ground behind, her heart sang.
But not anymore. That had been taken from her along with so much else.
Unlike most of the other passengers, Jessica didn’t look down at Sydney’s famous harbour bridge or the glorious beaches. They were a part of the life she was leaving behind. Her eyes were closed. As much as she tried to believe she was starting a new life, deep in her heart she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was running away. Looking for a safe place to hide.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, the seat belt sign has now been turned off and you are free to move around the cabin …’
She was tired. So very, very tired. It seemed like years since she’d had a good night’s sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the courtroom and the faces of the judge and jury. She heard the crisp clear voice of the prosecutor. And she saw Brian. Brian Hayes – her boss. Her lover. The wealthy jet-setting businessman with the brilliant blue eyes and the killer smile. The man the press had labelled ‘Heroin Hayes’.
They’d had a name for her too. Jezebel, they called her. The woman who betrayed her lover to save herself from prosecution. But that wasn’t how it was. She was the one betrayed; when the man she loved hid those packets of white powder on her aeroplane. All she had done – all she could do when she discovered them – was try to atone by contacting the authorities.
But that hadn’t stopped the accusations. In the media. Outside the courtroom … where she came face to face with a mother’s grief.
My son is dead. The woman screamed over and over again, her brown eyes filling with tears. Because of you. It’s your fault. You brought that poison into the country. You killed my son …
Jessica’s eyes shot open as she suddenly jerked awake. Her hands were clenched around the arms of the seat, her breath coming in short sharp gasps. She wiped a hand over her face.
‘Are you all right?’ The flight attendant leaned over her.
‘I must have fallen asleep,’ she stammered, as she fought to regain her composure.
‘Yes, you did.’ The attendant smiled in understanding. ‘And for quite some time. You missed the refreshments. We’re going to be landing at Mount Isa in just a few minutes.’
‘Thank you.’
As the attendant carried on his inspection, Jessica gathered her scattered wits. She glanced out of the window. The countryside below her was red-brown and looked very dry. They were circling the town. She could see the streets and houses and on the outskirts of the town, the great scar on the landscape that was the mine. She remembered reading about the outback mining towns at school. They had seemed a world away from her safe home in the Sydney suburbs. But today Mount Isa was just the first stop on her journey. She still had further to go.
When Jessica ran away – she went all the way.
Jessica emerged from the terminal building, if such a grand name could be applied to it, and glanced about her. The airport was little more than a runway with a motley collection of small buildings, most of them built of corrugated iron. The arrival of the Sydney flight must have been rush hour. There were three taxis parked outside, the drivers looking her way in the hope of a fare. They were going to be disappointed. To her right she could see a collection of smaller buildings, and a few light aircraft parked on the apron. That was her destination. She shrugged her rucksack higher on her back and started walking, rolling her small suitcase behind her.
It was hot. Within a few moments she could feel the sweat starting to prickle in the small of her back and on her forehead. In Sydney, winter was only starting to fade, but this far north it would always be hot. She had better get used to it.
There was no fence around the apron where the light planes were parked. No security. No guards. The irony of that struck home with some force. All those other airports she’d seen. All the guns and uniforms and checks … yet here she was, free to walk past the parked aircraft and into the dim interior of the hangar.
She let the rucksack fall to the ground, as her eyes adjusted after the brilliant glare outside.
‘Hello?’ she called, her voice echoing a little.
‘Hang on!’ The muffled shout came from inside the aircraft parked a few metres away.
Jessica took a closer look at the plane and the green logo emblazoned on its side. ‘Goongalla Mine Air Ambulance’ was stencilled in red under the cockpit window. This, she guessed, must be her new plane. She gently ran one hand along the wing’s leading edge. The Beechcraft was a nice aircraft. Maybe it would give her back some of the things she had lost …
‘G’day!’
A man emerged from the plane. He wore blue jeans and a stained white T-shirt – but the tools he carried identified him immediately. No doubt he was the one responsible for the aircraft’s good condition.
‘Hi.’ Jessica stepped forward and held out her hand. ‘You must be Jack North.’
‘That’s right. You are …?’
‘Jessica … Jess Pearson.’ She watched his face, waiting for that moment of recognition. Waiting to feel him draw away. Waiting for the silent accusation. It never came. The man’s brow creased.
‘Sorry?’
‘I’m your new pilot.’
Realisation spread slowly over the man’s face. ‘We were expecting a bloke.’
‘I’m not a bloke.’
Jack North looked her up and down. ‘Yes, I can see that.’ He wiped his hand carefully on his T-shirt, adding considerably to the stains, and took her offered hand. ‘Sorry. Pleased to meet you. Welcome on board.’
Jess guessed Jack was a few years older than her. Probably in his mid-thirties. He was quite tall, several inches taller than her, and he was a big man. Solid with muscle. The hand she shook was strong and calloused with hard work. His face was open and friendly. It was very obvious that her name and face meant nothing to him. Perhaps she had run far enough.
‘And I’m pleased to meet you, too,’ she said. ‘This is a nice aircraft. I’m looking forward to flying her.’
‘Yeah.’ The engineer turned with obvious pride. ‘She’s a beaut all right. Got the blended winglets. They really help the performance.’
‘And they look pretty cool too,’ Jess offered as she stroked the upturned wingtip.
‘Yeah. What have you been flying?’
The question so casually asked struck close to her heart. ‘Small jets,’ she said briefly.
The engineer raised an impressed eyebrow. ‘Lear?’
‘Gulfstream,’ she admitted, and was rewarded with a soft whistle.
‘Very nice indeed.’
‘Yes, it was,’ Jess answered. The jet had been beautiful and a joy to fly, but when she last saw it, it was no longer beautiful. The lush interior had been ripped away by the drug agents. All the joy was taken from it. And from her. Maybe this new aircraft would give some of it back.
‘Is she ready to go?’ she asked.
‘You bet. Let’s get your things and put them on board.’
Jess indicated the rucksack and the small suitcase. ‘That’s it.’
It seemed she had surprised him again. Jess bit back a grin as she let him get her bag. She climbed the aircraft stairs and it was her turn to be impressed.
She had stepped into something that was a cross between a doctor’s surgery and an operating theatre. There were two stretchers lining the bulkheads, and three seats. Custom built wooden cabinets filled most of the luggage space. She guessed they would hold medical kit. This was no rich man’s toy. This was a plane with a purpose.
‘We can take two on stretchers – and three in seats,’ Jack said, as he stepped into the p
lane behind her. ‘There’s a defib machine stored there. Heart monitor. Blood pressure. All with its own battery power. It’s ready to go. All we need is the patient.’
‘And the doctor,’ Jess added.
‘Oh, him we have,’ Jack said. ‘You’ll meet him when we get to Coorah Creek.’ He carried her bags to the back of the plane, placed them in a recess, and tightened the cargo net around it. As he did, Jess couldn’t help but notice …
‘I don’t mean to pry,’ she said, ‘but is that a tattoo of Donald Duck?’
‘No. Of course not.’ Jack grinned broadly as he slid his T-shirt sleeve higher to give her a clear view. ‘Why would a grown man have a tattoo of Donald Duck? It’s his Uncle – Scrooge McDuck.’
Jess stifled a smile. She had a feeling there was more to her engineer than met the eye.
Jack took the co-pilot’s place. Jess buckled into the pilot’s seat for the first time since the trial. It felt good to be back there. She felt a moment’s nervousness under the engineer’s close scrutiny, but it didn’t last long. She settled into the routine of pre-flight checks. Tower clearance came as soon as she asked for it, and she taxied to the runway. She held the plane in check as she pushed the throttle forward, feeling the power build. The Beechcraft quivered with eagerness to be away. Jess released the brake. The aircraft raced down the runway and climbed into the brilliant blue sky.
Although the joy was still missing, Jess did feel her heart lighten just a little as the landing gear clunked into place, and she pointed the plane’s long sleek nose towards the south.
It was an easy journey. The aircraft almost flew itself, allowing Jess to spend some time gazing out of the window at the vast expanse of sun-baked earth beneath her. She had known she was coming to the outback. Coorah Creek was one of the last towns before the great desert that covered half the continent, but she still hadn’t expected such emptiness. Within just a few minutes of leaving Mount Isa, it was as if she had stepped back in time several millennia. There were no roads. No buildings. Nothing to show where man had made his mark on the landscape. In the distance, she could see the dark red rocks of a long low mountain range. Here and there she saw the winding track of a creek, but seldom was there a glint of water. This was a dry place. And harsh.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, almost to herself.
‘It sure is,’ Jack agreed with her.
Most of the flight passed in a companionable silence. Just as her instruments told her they were nearing the end of the journey, Jack touched her arm.
‘There it is.’
She followed his pointing finger, but saw nothing to indicate a town. She started her descent. A few moments later she saw it. A long ridge ended in a sheer red cliff. At its base, a line of trees mapped out a narrow watercourse. That would be Coorah Creek. She’d looked the Aboriginal word up on the internet. It meant woman. At the time she’d thought that might be a good omen. Of the town that bore the same name, she could see little. The Goongalla Mine, however, was another matter. The open pit was far larger than she had expected. As the plane dropped lower she could see machines moving slowly on the sides and base of the cut, carrying their load of uranium ore to the surface. It took a few seconds for her to realise how huge the machines must be to be visible from such a height.
She banked the plane and dropped even lower. Now she had a better view of the town which had grown up on the banks of the creek, in the shadow of the escarpment. It sat where two roads met in a giant Y shape to form a single track heading south-west towards the desert. A railway line ran parallel to the east-bound road and turned south to its terminus in the mine compound. A short spur led into the town itself. The houses were set in large blocks of land. In a place where rain was more common, there would be gardens around those homes. Instead, Coorah Creek had just a very few small green patches of carefully tended lawn. The rough red of the outback soil predominated. Near the middle of the town, Jess blinked at the incongruous sight of a square of brilliant blue.
‘You’ve got a swimming pool?’
‘The school does. Courtesy of the mine.’
‘Like this aircraft.’
‘You got it,’ Jack replied. ‘Without the mine …’
‘There’d be no town.’ Jess finished for him.
‘Pretty much. Before the mine came, this place was just a pit stop on the Birdsville Road. A petrol station and pub and half a dozen houses. Now look at it.’
A population of almost three thousand, Jess recalled from her reading. With a police station, shops and a town council. There was a church and a hospital too, small but very well equipped. The mine looked after its own. Jessica circled the town as she reduced her height, trying to get a feel for this place which was going to be her new home. The mine was south of the town and the airstrip was right next to it, which made sense if the mining company was paying the bills. They’d no doubt use it for flying company executives in and out. The strip itself had an all-weather surface, not that rain would be much of a problem out here. There was a single large building made of corrugated iron, with a flat roof and a large round metal water tank at the side. Jess guessed that was the hangar for the plane she was now flying.
Jess brought the Beechcraft in for a gentle touchdown. Following Jack’s directions, she taxied the plane towards the large corrugated iron shed that served as the air ambulance hangar. She was still some yards from her destination when a car shot at high speed around the corner of the building and began sliding towards them as the driver stood too heavily on his brakes.
‘What the …’ Jess jammed her brakes on and brought the plane to a halt, its spinning propellers just a few yards from the car.
She was about to shut down the engines, when a man leaped out of the car, waving his hands.
‘Get back,’ she yelled, knowing as she did that he couldn’t hear her. The lunatic was running forward, in very real danger from the spinning propellers.
Jack said something as he ducked between the seats into the back of the plane, but Jess didn’t hear him. She watched horrified as the madman on the tarmac dived under her wingtip. A few seconds later, she saw a woman in some sort of strange headscarf follow the madman. That’s when Jack flung open the aircraft door.
Jess’s heart started to pound as she heard booted feet race up the aircraft stairs. It was as if she had stepped back into her nightmare … Flashing lights and sirens … Angry men with guns, shouting and threatening. Knives tearing into the seats of her beloved jet, to reveal the packets of white power hidden there …
Jess shook her head and turned towards the interior of the plane. The tall man who looked into her startled face wasn’t wearing a uniform. His hands were holding a small rucksack.
‘What the hell?’ Jess shouted at him. ‘You idiot. You could have been killed.’
The madman waved her words away with an impatient hand. ‘We’ve got to get in the air. Right now.’
‘What?’
‘There’s an injured man. About two hundred kilometres west. You’ve got to get me to him.’
‘What’s going on?’ She looked to Jack North for help. He grinned at her and nodded to the madman.
‘Jess Pearson – pilot, meet Adam Gilmore – doctor.’
‘Oh.’ Jess did a classic double take. This lunatic with a death wish was the doctor? He didn’t look much like any doctor she’d ever met. He was wearing jeans and an open-necked shirt with long sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He appeared about thirty, and he needed a shave. His dark hair and brown eyes were quite unremarkable – for a madman.
‘We don’t have time.’ The doctor was obviously not one for pleasantries, or even manners.
Jess felt her hackles rise. She was the pilot. She was responsible. This plane was going nowhere unless she wanted it to. She wasn’t going to let another man use her and her aircraft.
‘He’ll die if I don’t get there fast.’ Adam’s eyes blazed with an almost fanatical intensity.
A tense silence settled in the c
rowded confines of the small aircraft – for about three seconds.
‘Where?’ Jess reached for her map case and spread a map out on the nearest stretcher.
‘Here.’ He pointed to a place on the map. ‘Warrina Downs. They’ve got an airstrip.’
‘How long is it?’ Jess asked, as she looked down at the map.
‘How the hell should I know?’ Adam snapped.
‘Well, I need to know if I’m going to land this plane on it,’ Jess retorted.
‘It’s long enough,’ Jack offered calmly, as he passed a couple of medical bags into the cabin. ‘We’ve been there before. And you’ll be fine for fuel. They’ve got plenty out there.’
As Jack was the only person she’d known for more than ninety seconds, Jess guessed she would have to trust him.
She glanced out of the window. ‘There’s not a lot of daylight left. If we run out of light …’
‘You won’t if you get this damn plane in the air right now.’ Adam was too tall to stand up straight in the cabin, but Jess could feel him looking down at her in anger. ‘That man is dying.’
A woman’s face, streaked with tears. My son is dead. It’s your fault.
Jess closed her eyes and fought down the emotions surging through her. ‘All right,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Stow those bags. Get yourself strapped in and I’ll get this damn plane in the air.’
She opened her eyes and looked straight into the lined face of a small elderly nun standing at the top of the aircraft stairs.
‘Oh,’ she gasped. ‘Sorry. Sister … I …’
‘That’s quite all right, my dear,’ the nun’s gentle voice sparkled with humour. ‘I’ll just strap myself in too so you can get this damn plane in the air.’
